


Thanksgiving

by GypsySisters



Category: The OA (TV)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Holidays, Romance, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-08-27 12:12:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16702327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsySisters/pseuds/GypsySisters
Summary: Hap decides to offer Prairie the chance to share Thanksgiving dinner with him, but to say the least, things do not go as planned.





	1. The Invitation

One Thanksgiving, Hap was eating a Lean Cuisine turkey meal, staring at the monitors, when he suddenly threw it into the sink. Things were not okay.

But things were never okay. The “okay” life was for normal people. He’d dedicated himself to the goal of defeating death itself, and living an okay, acceptably content sort of life with the human comforts it came with was just never going to be an option.

He hated to admit to himself that it bothered him more on holidays. But as he forced himself to swallow the bland turkey and slammed his chair into the table with ruthless indignation, he did admit it. It was Thanksgiving and he didn’t want to be alone, eating some cheap convenience meal, punishing himself for his sins. He could go back to doing that tomorrow.

Gripping the chair, he tried to hold himself back from what he wanted, but this time it was impossible. He strode to the phone, made a few calls until he found a place willing to deliver what he needed same-day, and then found himself smiling a very, very tiny smile.

Straightening his features out into his usual poker face, he descended the stairs rapidly and made his way to Prairie’s cell, ignoring Homer’s acid glare. “Alright, let’s go,” he said curtly, trying not to stare at Prairie’s startled face because if he did, he worried that he would give away the fact that this was no ordinary occasion. He didn’t want the others knowing what he was up to...it was private.

It was special.

She could have said no. She could have tried to mask her desire to follow him behind a veneer of defiance. But she did not.

Things were different this time. There was no gas. There was no wheelchair. Perhaps he wanted to interview her about her NDE again, to sniff out more of her story. But since Scott’s death and resurrection, since he’d realized she’d lied to him about her sight, since Scott had yelled at him that she’d never love him, he’d not talked to her. He’d scarcely even looked at her.

Did she want him to look at her? That was a question she couldn’t even answer for herself because she understood that she wanted him. She understood she held a deep and visceral desire for him. She knew this knowledge because it lived inside her very bones, vibrating with obnoxious frequency whenever his body drew near.

She wanted him near, but she didn’t trust him. She just hoped she could trust herself. 

Nodding, she allowed him to lead her. Out of her cage, up the stairs, he tried not to let his fingers tremble on her beautiful, pale, slender arm, the one he’d so often imagined wrapped around his neck in the heat of a forbidden passion. 

“Here we go,” he said as they reached the top. It was a phrase he had often uttered in a friendly, light tone to help her feel comfortable with being upstairs, in his world. This time, the words came out cold and uncaring, the ultimate deception. Hands perched on her elbows as he shadowed her body closely, he guided her to the kitchen and pulled out a chair at his table. 

She could see now, and he knew it. He could only use his status as Prairie’s captor to explain why he still kept on physically leading her; he could only fall back on the expectation that otherwise she might try to attack him or bolt at any moment. Hap felt he had to intimidate her with his body language and his controlling ways, but he also felt the truth beneath his worn-out facade of heartlessness. He needed to touch her, badly. He had to touch her, had to feel her near him, even if it only gave him the slightest glimmering memory of that dream of her being his companion and staying upstairs with him always.

As much as she hated to admit it, she needed his touch as well, and when he used aggression with her it was soothing. It took away her guilt. She had no choice but to be touched by him. Right? She had no choice but to submit to his control over her.

But that was a lie. The fifth movement changed everything. She didn’t have to let him bring her upstairs. She didn’t have to let him touch her. She didn’t have to like it. This wasn’t Stockholm Syndrome because although he was her captor, he was not her only way out. 

“You can wait here,” he announced, checking his watch. He noticed a blur on his glasses and took them off, cleaning the lenses distractedly on his grey button-down shirt, causing it to rise slightly, revealing his lower abdomen and the top of his jeans. The food would be here soon, he thought; he’d planned the timing well. When he looked over at Prairie, she was blushing, starting at his bare stomach as she gulped. 

She realized he caught her looking and she quickly averted her eyes, cursing her lack of self control. 

His mouth fell open but words failed him. Brow furrowed, he looked at her with undisguised longing, blown away by the way she had looked at his body. He went to her and knelt by her side, hoping the subservient posture removed the crime of his bold act, because the very next thing he did was to rest one hand on her knee, gazing up at her in profound wonder as she looked at him in pure shock. What was he doing? Why was he... kneeling before her?

“What? What’s wrong, Prairie?” he said softly, as he would have asked if he saw her suffering or uneasy for any reason that had nothing to do with the usual routine. There was no way she should have to experience a moment’s discomfort, even if she was grappling with taboo emotions. He wanted to smooth away any pain he could, not only to make up for the pain he had inflicted on her again and again. It was also because he craved connection with her so desperately that it was the source of his own pain. 

He was ruining everything. Her vulnerability was quickly hidden behind a veil of anger as she cursed herself for even considering something as taboo as forgiving him when he wasn’t repentant. 

“You know what’s wrong.” Her face was hard and cold and she looked away, into the blue sky beyond his kitchen window. 

“Prairie, you know I…regret that I’ve had to take extreme measures for the work, but you also know how important the work is. This isn’t an undertaking I’ve embarked on just for my own selfish gain or to get some kind of…credit for any accomplishment of mine, we are trying to save humanity here! Please!” his voice was low and hoarse and his hand tightened on her knee as his eyes grew bright and wet with desire for her to understand, to see how much he respected and adored her. “Please, Prairie. Could we just…I don’t know, take one day off from being enemies?” He shrugged. “Not that I see us that way, not that I ever have, I feel we’re friends and collaborators, but I know my methods have put all this distance between us…it’s Thanksgiving. Can we be friends for one day?”

The revelation of the holiday broke through her armor and she looked at him incredulously once again.

_Thanksgiving._

Clove and ginger and cinnamon and pumpkins and apples and cranberries and turkey. The earthiness of the scents, the fullness of the plates, the way everyone would eat too much then doze off on the couch, the football game droning off in the background. 

...the way everyone would doze off with a full belly…

Perhaps Hap might doze off.

She couldn’t make it too easy for him to win her over. If he did, he’d immediately know something was off. She allowed her face to display a conflicting series of emotions… the desire to be with him and share this connection with him, balanced by a primal and unwavering spirit of defiant independence. She allowed him to see her gaze faltering before she shook her head and regarded him sternly once again. 

“No.” 

That tiny little hole in her armor was enough to make him feel nearly high with pure happiness. She might give in! It was possible. But to convince her, he would have to be stern, too.

“I’ve ordered a full Thanksgiving dinner from a really nice restaurant — frankly, I’m shocked they were even able to fill my order on such short notice. Now, I do think it’s a terrible waste if I’m the only one eating it, but if you would prefer that you and your little friends eat dog food for yet another day, then I can take you back downstairs. Unless, of course...” he stood up, pressing his hand hard into his thigh, his body language the only evidence that his skin still tingled from touching her.

He cleared his throat. He had to keep being a little mean or she would see how much this really meant to him. Then she might crush his hope just for vengeance sake. “Unless you’re willing to show a little gratitude for the trouble I’ve gone to.”

She looked at him quizzically, taken aback by his desperation. Eyebrows furrowed, she cocked her head thoughtfully to the side as she asked for clarification. 

“Gratitude?”

He grew frustrated, blushing slightly as he paced with a neurotic impatience. “Yes, Prairie, gratitude. I didn’t have to include you, or the others, but I’m trying to give you something nice. Would it be the worst thing in the world if you actually acknowledged or appreciated that?”

Oh bozhe moi he meant he wanted her to thank him with words or show a grateful attitude… not… nor gratitude of a more salacious nature. She blinked several times, willing herself not to gaze at his thighs as a blush crept up her neck. 

She was doing it again, looking at him like she wanted him, and he would have had her on the table in the blink of an eye, panties down and legs around his waist if only he was absolutely sure. Was he losing his mind, or did she feel for him even an iota of the maddening love he had for her? If he thought so, if he acted on it, what would she do?

He glared at her as if in consternation for her hesitation on top of being rude about his dinner invitation, but his eyes on her were hot, demanding and possessive. “Well?” he demanded intensely, “What’s it going to be, Prairie? ‘Thank you,’ or back to the basement?”

She licked her lips, keeping her eyes on the floor. She spoke softly, but he could hear each nuance in her voice as clearly as he could hear her quickened breath and pulsing heartbeat. 

“Thank you.”

He watched her pretty little tongue flicking across those gorgeous lips and felt a quiver in his lower region. “That’s good, Prairie,” he answered simply, walking over to her again and tipping her chin up so that their eyes locked again. His expression was quietly, implicitly commanding. “Say it again. Make sure I believe you, because I’ve learned how to tell when you’re lying.”

She could feel fire coursing through her veins as he held her gaze. The heat crawling up her legs was driving her insane. He couldn’t just touch her like that. She was starving. Didn’t he know?

She licked her lips and allowed her chest to rise and fall with unsteady breaths. Her voice was shaky once she spoke, holding his gaze with earnest eyes.

“Thank you.”

“I believe you,” he said gruffly, and mostly because he wanted to. She melted as he kept his hand on her face, his thumb momentarily stroking up over her jaw as he felt certain of one thing at least: their connection; that they felt somehow destined to be intertwined in so many ways. She made him feel alive after years of walking among the dead, alive in a way even the work didn’t— no! The thought was dangerous but he stayed there, letting his fingers travel attentively to her hair, tucking one stray lock behind her ear slowly as she tried and failed to hide how she ached for him. The memory of the first night they met struck him powerfully, along with so much regret.

“Prairie,” he said thickly, “I—“

Just then, the doorbell rang and he jerked away from her like he had been electrocuted as much by the interruption as by the sudden flash of shame that clouded her face. 

“Stay right there,” he ordered firmly, trying to pull himself together. “Don’t even think about pulling any brave moves now, Prairie. You will regret it, as will your friends.”

She watched carefully, curiously, as he let the delivery man in. Prattling away cheerfully about his plans to watch football with his buddies later that day, the young guy laid the bags out on the table as Hap lugged in a box filled with yet more food and drink. 

“Thanks very much,” Hap said warmly, clapping him on the back and practically propelling him back out the front door. “I really appreciate you driving all the way out here on a holiday, man.” 

The delivery guy’s innocent eyes trailed to Prairie and he waved cheerfully. “Hey! Happy Thanksgiving. You guys are gonna have quite the spread. You got a lot more folks coming for dinner?”

“How many did you say were coming from your family again, honey?” Hap asked Prairie casually, though the pet name and his favorite indulgence of pretending they were a couple, married even, made his heart pound hard and fast.

Looking from one man to the other, Prairie broke into a bashful laugh that was wide enough to show the little fangs of her teeth. She walked over to Hap and sweetly slipped her arm into his, resting her hand snugly on his bicep.

“Just my daddy,” she cooed, looking up into his eyes. Then she leaned up to brush her lips against his cheek in a tender kiss. “It’s sweet of you to include him. He’s so weird, after all.”


	2. A game of pretend

_"Daddy"_. Hap’s cheeks burned and his hand twitched, overwhelmed with longing to make her say it again. Over and over. The way he’d dreamed about her saying it...in a soft, broken voice with him above her, showing her every last ounce of his affection…

Her attitude, her gentle, sweet, compliant manner, and that kiss...it was everything he wanted. Prairie, his perfect little wife. His rescue from loneliness and despair, his only chance to be a real person again. 

Smoothly, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, his fingers massaging her there as he resisted the urge to tug on her pretty blonde hair. 

“I’ll always give into you, let you have anyone you want here, let you have whatever makes you happy, baby girl,” he assured her in his mature, gravelly voice. He beamed at her, blue eyes sparkling with love as he added playfully, “She knows it, too, don’t you, baby? I can’t say no to that face.” Punctuating his point and never taking his eyes off of Prairie, he caressed her cheek, almost disintegrating as the feeling of her soft, pink skin made him think of touching her in so many other places on that cute, tight little body of hers.

Her cheeks turned from pink to red and she had to catch her breath as he lavished her with attentions. She quickly looked down again, overwhelmed and embarrassed. 

She was playing with fire, and she knew it. She wasn’t sure how adept she would be at thwarting his attentions once they were alone. She knew that he’d never do anything to her that she didn’t want, well… except the kidnapping and the experiments… but, beyond that, she knew he’d never impose unwanted desires for intimacy upon her. If anything, he tended to be more reserved, standoffish, and unavailable. What Prairie didn’t trust was her own ability to keep herself from reciprocating his desires.

The delivery guy cleared his throat nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he waited for his tip. “Is there… erm… is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?”

Hap lightly spanked Prairie’s behind as if it was a gesture of affection he regularly indulged. But he couldn’t follow it up with a laugh, not when her pert little bottom bounced gently at his touch. Not when he wanted to keep disciplining her and he couldn’t. 

His eyes on her were serious despite his casual smile, until he tore his gaze from her startled and aroused expression and stepped forward to tip the delivery guy. “Here, man, you deserve it for coming out here on a holiday. The little missus and I appreciate it more than words can say.” Hap grinned as his fantasy felt real enough to believe for another moment. “I know we’re really going to enjoy the day.”

Prairie busied herself with the Thanksgiving meal, opening the bags of food and making them a couple of plates. She knew exactly what he liked, exactly how he liked it, and paid careful attention to her task even as the door clicked shut, the locks beeped, and she could hear the engine of the delivery vehicle fire up then rumble down the road and fade away.

“That’s great, Prairie,” Hap praised huskily, admiring her elegant frame as she arranged the food so competently, showing how well she knew his preferences. Could she predict _all_ of his preferences...did she ever think about…he cleared his throat again, almost wishing the delivery guy would come back so they could resume their delightful act. So he didn’t have to lose her again, lose her to the cold, stark reality of the divide between them, which was of his own doing.

He wished he could go back to the train station and the yearning strains of distant violin music, perfectly played by unbelievably adept hands. He wished he could start over again and do everything differently. But did that even matter at this point?

“Hey, I, uh…” inspiration struck and he went to the cabinet, taking down a bottle of wine he’d bought a few months ago and never got around to drinking. Why kid himself -- he’d bought it wanting to share it with Prairie, he’d bought it on a day he was fantasizing too much about impossibilities. But maybe now…

“Do you like rosé?” he asked, trying to sound totally cool and nonchalant, failing miserably.

That last thing she needed was lowered inhibitions, but there was more of a chance, if he drank, that he’d fall asleep. She nodded, looking at him briefly. 

“Thank you.”

He poured her a glass of the delicate pink drink, then walked closer to hand it to her. “I, uh, I liked it,” he blurted helplessly, realizing too late he would now have to explain what he meant. “I liked pretending, with you.”

A wave of emotions poured over her face. First: surprise at what he was addressing. Secondly: pleasure at the affirmation. Thirdly: the possibility that she wasn’t pretending at all, followed by a swift and concerted effort to rein it in, to discourage him further. 

She took the drink and nodded demurely, obscuring her eyes once again.

“Thank you.”

He didn’t want to push the subject any further, not when the peace between them felt so tenuous. He pulled out a chair for Prairie at the table and stood there expectantly. “Come on, why don’t you have a seat? Relax and enjoy the meal, I’ll take care of everything else.” _I’ll take care of you._

He swallowed the last words with difficulty not saying them aloud, most of all because it was all he wanted, for them to take care of each other. However, she didn’t move. She just busied herself even more. 

“I’m almost done. But… you ordered too much food… unless…” she looked up at him curiously. Did he take the others into account as well? 

“We can bring some down to the others later,” he promised, proud of himself for the gesture. “Plus, I always like to have a little extra for leftovers. I bet you make a mean turkey sandwich.” His eyes sparkled, but his attitude was cautious, not sure what to say to break through her reserve.

She did not smile, but there was a glimmer of pleasure in her face as she walked towards him, a plate in each hand. When she reached him, she looked calmly into his eyes, a hint of a challenge in her expression as she spoke. 

“Thank you.”

He took the plates from her, his fingers brushing her wrists as a shiver of joy went down his spine at the brief contact and reverberated throughout her body as well.

“Sit down,” he told her gruffly, meeting her challenge, acknowledging with his solemn expression that he had tired of her answering his every remark with the same phrase. Yet as her eyebrows fluttered pleasurably at the command, the ghost of a smile played around his lips, betraying that he liked the challenge and intended to do all he could to convince her his company was worth keeping.

“You could say please,” she replied, raising her chin defiantly.

He leaned in close to her body, breathing heavily, and nodded. “Please,” he said, gesturing to the chair although all he wanted was to kiss her mouth. 

She nodded, turning her head so her face was nearly brushing his. 

“You… um… your body… your body is blocking me.” 

“My body?” He smiled, very pleased, then backed off slightly. “Won’t you have a seat please, Miss Johnson? I’m honored to share this meal with you on Thanksgiving day.” There was humor infused with his attempt to appease her reprimand, but too much truth to hide.

She sat down, flustered, smoothing her skirt and averted her eyes as he guided her into the chair with far more attention than was remotely necessary, his hands brushing over her shoulders, arms and back. How could he just touch her like that? How could he take such liberties? Didn’t he know how impossibly he made her feel? 

He tucked her chair in so that she was comfortably positioned, then lingered above her, leaning by her head, intoxicated by her closeness. He closed his eyes and breathed in the moment, not wanting it to end.

She closed her eyes as well, and leaned into his presence, her hair brushing almost imperceptibly against his chest.

“Did you like it, too? Pretending?” Hap asked in a low voice, hoping it might help that she wasn’t looking at him; that it might make it easier to answer. He reached his hands out as if to rub her shoulders, but hesitated as she slumped dramatically before his eyes. Then he watched as she straightened her posture again, as if scurrying to keep on some semblance of armor. 

Even if he couldn’t remove the damage he had already wrought to her life and the times he had hurt her, he wished she would let him soothe a little of the pain away. He wished she knew that the only pain he ever wanted her to feel again would be in the throes of pleasure.

She shook her head, lying. _No._ No, she did not enjoy pretending. 

“I see,” he said lightly. His heart would have been shattered except for one thing: he didn’t believe her. Prairie’s denial contrasted with her body language as well as the way she’d acted when “pretending” to flirt with him. Her silent “no” felt so forced that he wondered if she would have been able to get the word out.

He smiled at sat down next to her, lifting his own glass of wine to propose a toast. “Happy Thanksgiving, Prairie,” he said warmly.

She raised her glass and raised her eyes to his expectant face. 

_I may not be able to kill you_ , she considered, _but I still need to help the others escape._ And with that thought, her eyebrows fluttered and she exhaled heavily as he watched her emotions unfurl.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Hunter.”


	3. A leap of faith

“Hunter,” he repeated thoughtfully. He loved the sound of her using his more formal first name. When people called him “Hap,” it was anything but intimate...if anything, it had always felt a little sarcastic or mocking to him...as if to call him “Hap” when he was usually so hard-working and serious was too funny to resist.

He ate a small forkful of turkey, watching her carefully as she made a hole in her mashed potatoes and melted a tab of butter inside of them. “I love this restaurant,” he enthused quietly, trying out the mashed potatoes, as well, and found that as expected, they melted in his mouth. “I used to always go there back when I got out more. These days I only ever really leave for conferences and recruitments.” That last bit was more than awkward...it was memory-inducing. Again, he was reminded of their first meeting, the sweet reminiscence rolling over him as he tried to savor it, the way Prairie had looked at him before she knew what he was going to do, what he had already done, the work he couldn’t stop.

She remembered their first meeting then, as well… remembered how irresistible he had been, how intoxicating his flirtation has been. The way he had been with her, it had all been a ruse, a manipulation, part of his master plan to trick her into his cage. 

“I’m sure you find it hard to pull yourself away from so many admirers.” The words were bitter and made her next mouthful of food taste like ash. 

“No,” he said immediately, looking at her with stern disapproval thinly masking his inner tumult. “I hate leaving you. I don’t care about going anywhere else unless it’s with you.” He set his fork down and sighed heavily. “Surely, Prairie, despite everything, despite the unfortunate measures which my work requires you can see that, you know how much I care about you.”

She shook her head. No. He was doing it again. He was manipulating her. And it wasn’t going to work. 

“I know you say what you have to, for the work.”

“I’ll tell you what, Prairie,” he announced, “today wasn’t my first time pretending.” He rolled his shoulders back, gaining confidence to go on, letting out a deep breath. “The night I met you I pretended that I just — I met you, I asked you out, we shared a wonderful meal and talked about our passions, and it was...truly...the happiest night of my life. I convinced myself my intentions were good, that the study was safe, that I would never hurt you, not someone so admirable and strong, so beautiful, brilliant, yet soft and innocent and kind. I really had myself going, right up until I saw the look on your face when you listened to your heartbeat...could you tell, when you heard mine!” He blinked tears back as he watched her eyes grow wide. “Could you feel my heart plummeting? Breaking at the thought of hurting you, too afraid I’d never see you again to resist taking you?”

He dragged his chair across the floor, taking her hand and pressing it to his heart again. “Can you feel it now?”

“No,” she pulled her hand back, startled. This had been a mistake. This had all been a grave mistake. She shook her head as she looked away from him desperately. “Take me back to the basement. I want to go back to my cage.”

There was nothing to do now except to take a risk. Honesty hadn’t gotten him any further than trying to treat her to a special meal. He had nothing to lose; seemingly she despised him, seemingly she was determined to fight their attraction with all her might. He couldn’t bear to let the day end without trying at least one more time to show her the parts of himself he had never wanted to share with anyone.

“Please -- please stay,” he begged, his face falling helplessly. He reached out to touch her knee, praying to gods he didn’t even believe in that she wouldn’t pull away again. “Stay all day, stay all night...sleep in my bed, I’ll stay out here on the couch. Prairie, I don’t want to lose you again. We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, it’s just -- I need you.”

She couldn’t stop looking at where his hand connected with her body. She could feel the heat of the moment thrumming throughout her fragile frame. He was offering her everything, everything she wanted: a chance to free the others while he slept, as well as the carnal desires she could not face. 

But, in touching her, in pleading with her, he was forcing her to bring her unknown desires into the light, and she just couldn’t allow that fork in her path to abide. 

“No,” she shook her head again, not willing to shrug his hand off her leg. “No. Take me back downstairs.”

“Alright,” he said stiffly, offended. He stood, straightening his shirt, and led her to the basement door as she blinked at him, almost sad that he was giving in.

_Don’t be ridiculous, Prairie. He’s giving you just what you asked for._ She furrowed her brow and relaxed in his grip.

But something in her demeanor told him unquestionably she wanted him. He felt the sparks between them as unbelievably intense as ever, more so. And he felt a passionate, tender, strict urge take him over uncontrollably.

Hap took Prairie roughly by the arm, careful not to actually hurt her, and guided her instead against the wall, her cheek pressed to it as he pinned her arms behind her back and hovered by her ear, his breath hot and his words demanding. “Tell me what you really want.”

She gasped. “What… what I really want?”

He couldn’t stand to see her hiding from her own feelings, not on top of all her other sadness, and not if he had the power, in this case, to set her free.

He stayed close, firmly massaging his strong hand over her bottom, roving his touch in slowly savoring circles, and she couldn’t help but melt under his touch, giving into his demands as easily as if breathing air. 

“Do you really want to go back downstairs or do you want to be with me?” He asked tensely.

Was this what Khatun meant when she said she’d know great love in the midst of great suffering? No. She couldn’t accept it. It couldn’t be. She tried to shake her head, but she was restricted as she was pressed up against the wall. 

“Answer me, Prairie,” he commanded, harshness and love blending in his voice. He rubbed his hand over her ass again, prepared to meet her defiance if it should persist. “Say yes if you want to be with me. No if you want to go back downstairs to Homer and your other friends.”

In her final act of defiance, she did nothing. She said nothing. She simply stayed, under the pressure of his demands. 

Angry and disappointed, yet sympathizing with her stubborn resistance, Hap drew his hand back and spanked her swiftly, making her gasp. “Bad girl! Tell me the truth...I saw how you looked before, when you said ‘daddy.’ You like this, you want it, with me. Admit it. Say, ‘I want you, daddy.’”

Her entire body felt alert and sensitive to his touch. Pressed into the wall, she could feel the weight of his desire, could almost trust that he might want her enough to take away the shame of having to admit she wanted him back. She did not struggle in his grip. She did not try to fight back. Eager for more of his tutelage, she remain silent, except for a few belabored gasps. 

He spanked her again, hard this time, harder than he wanted to need to. Yet he could sense that this was exactly what they both needed. “Come on, baby girl, be good for me,” he asked raggedly, circling his soothing, yet possessive hand over her ass. “Just say it once. Say, ‘yes, daddy.’”

She relaxed against the wall, her eyes fluttering shut as she absorbed his discipline, but she said nothing. Why would she? Why would she give him any excuse for this moment to end?

“I want you,” he breathed against her neck, following the words with a kiss there on her skin. He took a handful of her hair and tugged it, then kissed her again. “It’s hard admitting it, but it’s the truth. And that’s all I want from you, Prairie. So please. Say it.” He was so close behind her that his growing erection nearly brushed her ass, but he needed more from her. He needed her moans, her acquiescence, her surrender, her love, her everything.

She was hot and raw with feeling and she hated herself for her inability to resist his control.

“No, daddy. I will never want you.”


	4. Freedom

He scooped her up as easily as if she was a ragdoll, his cock thick and alert in his trousers at the sound of her sweet voice framing that name for him. Throwing her over his shoulder as she yelped, he carried her to his room while she scrambled in his arms. He sat on the bed, placing her over his lap and yanking her dress up. 

He rested his palm on her ass and gave her another chance. “You like it when daddy disciplines you, baby girl...isn’t that right?”

She looked back at him, fire in her eyes, and dug her fingers into his knee as she seethed. 

“Do your worst.”

Hap smiled grimly, then pulled her panties down to reveal her adorable, innocent, petite ass. “Oh, baby girl...so pretty,” he praised gruffly, stroking her cheeks and then sliding his finger between them as she gasped in surprise, her folds growing wet in anticipation. “I can tell how much you’re enjoying daddy’s special attention,” he added as he pulled back and smacked her behind again, thrilling at the sting in his palm and the pink marks he left behind. “It feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“It’s horrible, just like you.”

She said the words bitterly, earning her a quick, harsh spank, which made her gasp and grow even wetter.

“Naughty, bad girl,” he chided huskily, sliding his hand underneath her to find her warm, wet cunt. He stroked her slit, then squeezed her ass and spanked her again. “I can feel how much you need daddy, Prairie. Why don’t you just tell me the truth?”

“I can’t,” she admitted, her resolve crumbling as she quietly cursed herself. 

“Hmm,” he mused, his cock twitching as he felt her delicate tightness and slid his finger inside her pussy, eliciting a soft moan from her surprised mouth. He rocked his finger in and out of her, spanking her and then pulling her hair in time with the motion, longing to hear her call him daddy again...and again and again.

“I can’t,” she whined, breathless and yearning under his care. “I can’t… please… I… I just can’t...” She relaxed under the authority of his demands and her pussy was swelling in response to his attentions, getting wetter and tighter with each stroke of his hand. 

“Okay, baby,” he agreed reluctantly. “Just say, ‘no, daddy...I can’t, daddy.’” And he added a second finger inside her dripping sex, thrusting deep inside her as his free hand massaged her ass, his touch tender and tough in equal measures.

She gasped, ashamed and aroused in equal measure. How could she do this? How could she let him inside of her heart? No! No she wouldn’t! She would stop… but… maybe… just after a little… oh… (his fingers felt so good)... maybe just after a little more… she felt the pressure and tension rise inside of her body as if she was about to explode. She gripped his leg tighter, letting out a tortured moan. 

Her touch was amazing, lighting him up inside with the purest happiness he had ever known. “Yes...hold onto me, baby girl, I’m here for you,” he promised, sliding a third finger inside her and pumping deep, hard and fast, relishing her wetness and the way her pussy squeezed him. “You’re being such a good girl now...daddy is proud of you…”

That sent her over the edge. She cried out, arching her ass up, and a white creamy cum seeped out of her pussy and down his hand. Oh! She’d never felt such an orgasm before, both deeply satisfying and deeply unsatisfying in equal measure. He gave her more than what she wanted. He gave her what she couldn’t admit to herself she craved. It was a desire so persistent it felt like a need. 

Panting, she tried to center herself, but realized just how utterly vulnerable she’d become, and how completely at his mercy she now remained. Unsure of what to do, as he lifted her off his lap, arranging her so that she straddled him and they were face to face as he cupped her face in his hands, she spoke, her voice soft and breathless. 

“Thank you.”

The words reverberated through his being and he looked at her worshipfully. He smiled, his eyes crinkling as he leaned in to brush his lips against her open mouth. His hands trailed up from her ass, rubbing her back and sinking into her hair, and still she resisted, even after everything that had passed between them, even as she could feel desire for him mounting inside of her once again. 

“I… I can’t… not while…” 

“Not while the others are still in cages downstairs?” He smiled against her lips, then licked them. “Yes, you can, baby girl. You know the sacrifices we have to make for the work, and you also know how much you and I need this, here and now.” He kissed her neck, speaking into it hotly. “I’ll be good to them, I’ll go easy from now on, I promise. Let daddy take care of you.”

She moaned, her hands finding their way to his shoulders as she dared to explore his strong and masculine frame. “And… the fifth movement… when we find it, what happens after that?”

“I’ll take you with me...we’ll go exploring.” He was wistful, his eyes dreamy. “Prairie, I would love that. We’ll find the unknown together. Bring the others too if you want, I don’t care...I just want you.” He kissed her worried mouth again as she weaved her fingers through his hair and sighed. 

“Do you promise? That you’ll never leave me? That I won’t be standing there, watching the distance grow between us, trying not to cry?” She thought of the last time she was with Papa, and couldn’t even see him as she faced the unknown, bravely waving goodbye, trying desperately not to cry.

She searched Hap’s blue eyes, hers bright with a glimmer of hope. 

“Of course I won’t leave you,” he promised huskily, “I want you to be my partner, Prairie, I want to search through new worlds together with you, solve the mysteries of life and death -- I know you should be by my side.” He clasped her hands and kissed them, then rubbed them against his cheek, a sense of vulnerability taking him over. “I haven’t even known how to deal with the way I feel for you, but I couldn’t hold it back anymore, not if there was any chance you feel it too.”

She leaned in closely, her heart aching as she brushed her cheek against his, the friction making her skin sensitive and alert. “When we find the fifth movement, I’ll go with you, and you’ll set the others free?

Everytime she showed reciprocation for his affection, he felt as if his skin was on fire, longing for her to show him more and more, for her to touch him endlessly. 

“Yes,” he agreed, letting her know he meant it when he added firmly, “They could never find us again; we’ll be gone…into another world. There’s no reason why they can’t go free.”

Hands traveling from his shoulders down his arms, she dragged her nose along his skin, flirting with his impossibly thin restraint. 

“And how deeply are you willing to sacrifice for the sake of the work?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, too distracted by the feeling of her showing him affection, by the sensation of understanding his feelings truly were required, to pay complete attention to anything else.

She ghosted her lips along his neck as she spoke, and her hands found their way to his buttons, as she freed him from them one by one. 

“Haven’t you ever wondered what it’s like… to experience an NDE for yourself?”

“Of course I’ve wondered,” he said thoughtfully, taken aback by her seemingly sudden, random question. He ran his hands over her hair, gazing inquisitively into her eyes. “Why do you ask?”

She hesitated then shook her head, haunching back on his lap and looking down, embarrassed, distracted only by the view before her of his open shirt and bare, muscular body. 

“It’s nothing,” she muttered, “its silly… forget I said anything…”

“Hey,” he insisted, catching her lips in a kiss, then taking the strap of her dress down to press his lips to her shoulder as she gasped at the contact, her eyes fluttering shut. “I always want to hear whatever you have to tell me, Prairie...you’re the person I find most worth listening to.” Torn between erotic excitement at the way she looked at him, and a confusing blend of intellectual curiosity and slight suspicion at her line of questioning, he couldn’t resist touching her, not when her eyes had roved his physique with that naively adorable desire, not when she sighed like that, melting impossibly under his affections.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s probably nothing, anyways.” She sighed as he lowered the other strap, savored her newly barred shoulder with the same affection, and then tugged her dress down to her waist. He smiled, enamored by her simple white cotton bra.

“Tell me, baby girl,” he commanded softly, cupping her breasts and kissing her cleavage slowly and passionately as she gasped again and again at his attentions, her body blushing and on fire with sensation. “Tell daddy why you asked that question. What are you thinking?”

She moaned softly as she thought over her words, running her hands up his arms. “Have you ever felt like something larger than either of us brought us together?”

“Yes,” he said, his rumbling voice vibrating against her skin as he kissed between her breasts. “Always,” he added, unclasping the bra and letting it fall to the bed. He gazed at her exposed breasts with undisguised lust, then leaned in to lick one perfect pink nipple. “Prairie, I have felt the mysteries of the universe converging to unite us since that very first night. I feel it now, more than ever…” Holding her breasts gently, he went on kissing and licking at her nipples, looking up at her, wide-eyed in the midst of his attentions to add, “We’re bonded. We’re...maybe even soulmates. It may mean more than we can know yet.”

Her expression was a tortured mix between arousal and dying to be taken seriously. 

“But… did you ever consider… oh God, Hunter… your mouth…” she sighed, trying to focus on her words as she weaved her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp, digging in surprisingly hard. “Did you… did you ever consider… that the fifth movement… might… be… yours?”

He flinched joyfully at her roughness and laid her down beneath him as he went on exploring her breasts, getting more aggressive himself, sucking and lightly biting her nipples as his firm erection rested between her thighs. “But I’m not special like you, Prairie...I’m just a facilitator, a wanderer looking for the truth. You are the truth.”

“But if Renata had a movement… if Scott did… if even Homer…” she shook her head letting the name hang in the air between them. “It’s been so long, and Rachel has nothing. What if the key… the key lies… in you?”

“Why would it?” He questioned, looking at her doubtfully. “There’s nothing remarkable about me. Why do you think I could be capable  
of that?”

She reached out and cupped his face, then, angling him so that he could look into her earnest eyes. 

“You are not ordinary. You are not forgotten, or unloved. Hunter… you are an angel.”

“No one loves me,” he objected softly, holding her breasts and kissing them slowly before turning his melancholy eyes back up to her face. “How could they? After what I’ve had to do for the work? After the lengths I’ve gone to and the sacrifices I’ve demanded from my subjects? Prairie, my crimes have left me feeling remarkably ordinary. Empty, even, until the moment I saw you.”

Affectionately, she brushed his hair across his forehead, a melancholy hint of disappointment in her eyes. “Alright. I understand.”

“Why do you want it to be true so badly? I would try, you know...for you. I could try to see if it’s me.” He smiled up at her, hoping this would assuage her anxieties and make her happy.

“It’s just…” she looked away, embarrassed by her emotions. “I understand how you feel. I felt it, too. I felt unseen, misunderstood, dejected, like I was crazy…” she glanced back into his hopeful eyes, “...and then I met you.”

“And...how did that change things?” He gave a darkly humorous chuckle. “Aside from the obvious, for which I’m...endlessly sorry. How did meeting me change the way you felt?” He kissed her cheek softly, threading his fingers through her hair.

As she spoke, she tipped her head so that her lips brushed against his, teasing him with the promise of a kiss. “It was like I finally woke up, finally found what the universe had waiting for me my whole life… finally found… the daddy… I’d always dreamed… I’d meet.”

Her words sent electricity quivering through his body and he slid his hands under her ass cheeks, squeezing possessively. “I’ve been thinking about being your daddy since that first night. I loved being with you at the restaurant, ordering for you, guiding you...finding excuses to touch you. I didn’t want it to end.”

She clasped his face and kissed him, finally, kissed him desperately as his lips burned into hers. His hands wandered her body hungrily as his tongue slipped into her mouth and he moaned, getting harder at the taste of her giving into the attraction between them.

“Forget about the fifth movement. It’s not important enough. Not if it could mean losing you.”

Then she kissed him again and again. 

“I don’t want to lose you either,” he said breathlessly between kisses, his erection sliding against her center as he gently ground into her soft heat. “This is all I want. To be together...to search for the answers without any more risk to the others...to be free of that pain, of the feeling I’ve lost my humanity. You gave it back to me, Prairie.”

“Do you mean that?” She looked at him, aching, clinging to his shoulders, her body on fire with desire for him. Would he really let them go?

“I’ve been thinking about doing it for a while now...after Cuba, after Scott...after watching you all get closer and closer, stronger together, united against a common enemy: me...it made me see that I wanted what you all have together...family. I don’t want to throw my humanity away, resign myself to being the enemy forever.”

It was hard telling her this out loud. Part of him had been ashamed for feeling such silly, impossible needs and wishes...part of him was just ashamed and regretful for his decisions, the path that led them all here. He had considered confiding in Leon about his inner turmoil, but surely his mentor would never understand the way that Prairie could. Hap had never met someone so empathetic, caring, open-minded and selfless. Her bravery let her see the good in people even as she protected herself from the dangers they represented. Hap didn’t want to be a danger to her, ever again. All he wanted was to protect her, for the two of them to be happy together.

Prairie was floored. She had thought she would lull him into sleeping so that she could break the others free. She considered letting him die in the contraption he used to murder then over and over, then not revive him so she could set them free. She never once considered that he would be willing to let them go. 

Speechless, she looked at him, taking in every feature on his sad face, aghast. 

“What, what are you thinking?” He asked solicitously, tracing the curves of her face affectionately. 

As a tear made its way down her face, she sighed. “I was thinking… I wish you’d have asked me to stay… months ago… at the beginning.”

“What? Knowing what I was doing, the procedures I had undertaken, the severity and stakes of the undertaking? How could I impose that responsibility on you? I had to excuse you from those moral dilemmas, let you stay true to your heart, but I couldn’t walk away from you either. Tell me the truth, if you knew I was holding my subjects in cages, forcing them to participate, killing them...if I told you that first night, how would you have felt? What would you have done?” His thoughts were racing away from him like a runaway train, compelled to ruthless emotional inquiry by her startling words. How could there have been any other destiny, any other fork in their disastrous path?

She looked at him simply, without pretense. “If you had me, and I was willing to stay, why would you have needed the others?”

“It doesn’t make any sense to do an experiment like this with only two participants. Who would observe and record all the findings? How can we know if all five movements would ever have been granted to only two of us?” Regret tinged his words and sorrow darkened his eyes as he faced again the truth that his past sins, for the sake of the work, may have been inevitable, necessary evils. It was hard feeling that way about actions that left him feeling at best hollow, at worst filthy with shame.

She saw the darkness clouding his heart and mind and reached out to touch his cheek, to cradle his face. “Tell me what you want to do, and I will help you do it.”

“Help me free the others,” he suggested, kissing her forehead, “and then continue the work with me. We’ll go away together, set up a lab where we can heal people with the movements we already have, do some good with the experiments, finally! And, Prairie, we’ll earn enough money to do whatever we want. We’ll work until we find the fifth movement and then we’ll go exploring together through other worlds, other dimension, maybe even forever. There’s nothing I want more. To be with you, chasing our dreams, finding the truth.”

She nodded, brushing his cheeks with her thumbs. She could see that kind of a future with him. As tears fell unbidden down her cheeks, she nodded. 

“Yes.”


End file.
